A Day in the Life of a Lion

There are days when my hair is just a bit kinky and curly.  There are days (especially dry winter ones) when it hangs limp and flaccid like an old man in a wheelchair.  Then there are days like today, when the weather has finally warmed up, the air is wet, springy, and oh-so-humid, and my hair decides to take on a Medusa-like life of its own.  It is days like these that makes me ask myself why I don’t have calming hair ointments on hand at work.  Or at least a headband, or something.

It also makes me wonder how male lions can put up with it, day after day.  I know the mane is supposed to be a sign of sexual prowess for attraction females, but really.  Peacocks can attract without a bunch of fuzz in their eyes.  It also makes me wonder if lions have really gotten a bad wrap as opposed to lionesses.  Sure, they always seem sleepy in the daytime, but you would squint too if you had hair in your eyes.   And of course they don’t hunt as much as the lionesses – a bigger, stumbling tawny mass that can’t really see is bound to be a detriment to the hunt.

Also of note on the stupidity side of our impressions of lions, let’s turn to kid lit., specifically Aslan of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.  Possible religious references aside, when they shave his mane, I don’t think that detracts very much from the fact that the bad guys have a giant lion in their midst.  And now, without all that hair in his eyes, he can see you.  Maybe not a good time to be mocking.

It stands to reason that I should really shave my head and be done with the poof.  But despite the current annoyance of the humidity fro, I fear I would be less than appealing as a bald, somewhat lumpy, egg.

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